The Sun will Rise Tomorrow
by aku no tensai
Summary: Ryoma wishes upon a star for someone to care for him. Inside summary may be better. First posted fanfic plz Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1: Fix Me

**A/N: **Okay! I'm finally back with the new and old chapter (s).

Thank you Sadygirly for pointing out that I forgot to leave the first chapter up! I'm sooo stupid! o.o

I'm sorry I took it down, but it was **really** bugging me. So without further ado, here is the first chapter, or rather, a prologue. Again, it's to the song 'Fix You' by Coldplay. It's the same as before.

The first chapter is purely the lyrics to the song and a little something at the beginning.

Please give **constructive** criticism. And by constructive criticism, I mean 'constructive' not 'put downs' and 'flames' and 'hate mail.'

Thank you and please enjoy~

**Summary:** Ryoma wishes on a star for someone to love him.

* * *

><p>Full Summary: When everything is going wrong with Ryoma and he doesn't know what to do, he wishes on a star for someone to come save him.<p>

**Chapter 1:The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow.**

He was walking under the dark midnight blue sky, staring at the bright yellow and silver stars above; not caring if he bumped into someone or something.  
>His small hands were shoved deeply in the pockets of his light blue winter jacket, his black sorels making a faint clunk on the thinly coated icy ground. Breath puffing into white clouds in front of him. He suddenly stopped in the middle of the deserted road and simply stood there.<br>The first touches of a snow fall hit his upturned face, gracing his rosy colored cheeks. The snowflakes turned into water instantly upon hitting his skin, giving the impression that he was crying. But he didn't cry. No matter how much he wanted to sometimes, he **never** cried. Even when it became all too much for him to handle...  
>How many times had it been that he'd thought to end it all?<br>How many times had he wished to say goodbye to everyone he loved?  
>How many times had he wished for someone to notice his pain? How broken he was? How much he needed to be saved?<br>How long had it been since he heard those three simple words he longed to hear?  
>Everyone had abandoned him. Ignored him. He no longer existed in this world; not in the eyes of anyone that mattered.<p>

There was no place for him anywhere. Not in Seigaku, not in America, not in Japan...not at 'home'...

Ryoma closed his golden cat-like eyes and he slowly turned around and around in the street, catching the snowflakes on his small pink tongue. Eventually, he stopped and headed back towards _that_ place. He refused to call it a _home. _A '_home'_ was a place you felt welcome, relaxed, _happy_. A place you could call safe. So, no, he would not call that placea '_home._' Never again.

As Ryoma continued his journey back to that place, he listened to a certain song over and over again, wishing he could be the person the singer was talking about. He listened to it repeatedly until he had it memorized, until he could sing it word for word, recite it like a poem, as if he were the one who wrote it. And, just before he fell into a restless sleep, his drunken father downstairs, he saw a shooting star and made a wish. A wish that someday, just once... he could find someone to fix _**him**_.

**"Fix You"**

When you try your best, but you don't succeed  
>When you get what you want, but not what you need<br>When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
>Stuck in reverse<p>

And the tears come streaming down your face  
>When you lose something you can't replace<br>When you love someone, but it goes to waste  
>Could it be worse?<p>

Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below  
>When you're too in love to let it go<br>But if you never try you'll never know  
>Just what you're worth<p>

Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down on your face  
>When you lose something you cannot replace<br>Tears stream down on your face  
>And I...<p>

Tears stream down on your face  
>I promise you I will learn from my mistakes<br>Tears stream down on your face  
>And I...<p>

Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you


	2. Dreams of Spiralling

**A/N:** Ah~ It's been one hell of a long time but I hope that people are still willing to read this story and are not wanting to kill me! *hides behind couch*

Hmmm, I don't know if I'll be making this story an OT5/6 pairing but who knows, I may try~

Anywho, the poll is being mean to me (not working)...hasn't been working for quite some time... so just send me your votes by PMing me, those of you who are still reading~

Also, I actually **don't** know what will happen in this story yet so I'm open to any suggestions~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Prince of Tennis or the characters in anyway, nor do I make profit. Only this idea/plot is mine~

**Warning(s)**: Ryoma is OOC. At least, I think so.

**Chapter 1: Dreams of Spiraling**

He was running, running, running. Up a beautiful spiraling staircase. So fast, like he was flying, soaring through the air, feeling incredibly light, as weightless as a feather...until he tripped and fell down the stairs.  
>Then he was falling, and falling <em>fast<em>. The stairs disappeared and he was surrounded by complete darkness and silence. No sound, no objects, no light or any signs to tell him whether he was facing up or down. There was nothing.

After what seemed like an eternity, he crashed into what must have been the floor. The impact had come so abruptly and hard that it left him breathless. Ryoma breathed in, trying to force oxygen back into deprived lungs, but it never came. He tried again and again but nothing ever came.  
>Instead it seemed that the more he tried to breathe inwards, the more oxygen and heat left his body. He could feel the warmth leaving him— seeping out of his veins, leaving him ice cold and shivering. Lips turning pale blue, fingertips becoming frostbitten, his blood slowing. The edge of his vision turned black. He was choking, still trying to breathe, but nothing was working.<br>He was dying, but he couldn't bring himself to feel any sort of panic or desperation. In this world— wherever he was— he couldn't feel pain or suffering, no sadness or hate. He was blissfully numb and he didn't want this feeling to ever leave him. It was perfect, this place was perfect.  
>Gray and red spots splashed across what little he could see now. There was a ringing in his ears and a bright light appeared just before Ryoma was thrown back into the darkness once more.<p>

The ringing got louder and Ryoma's eyes opened. He lay there in his bed at home, staring at the wall and listening to his alarm clock make that awful shrilling noise. Bright sunlight shone through his curtains, flooding his room in a pale yellow glow.

His eyes filled with tears and his throat closed to a near painful point. He lay there, breathing. In and out, in... and out. That's all he needed to do, was breathe; but day by day, that was proving to be harder as the weight on his chest squeezed tighter and tighter, like a boa-constrictor, feeling like it might crush his bones and squeeze the life out of him.

"Meow!" he could hear Karupin, his beloved Himalayan cat, pawing at his bedroom door and calling from the outside insistently. That's right, he needed to feed her and get to school.  
>Ryoma crawled his way out of bed and blinked back the wetness in his golden-rhyolite eyes.<br>_Just get through this day. One day at a time. You can do it._ The young teen thought to himself.

_I can do it. _He made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, Karupin trailing behind him.

He filled her water and food bowl then sat at the table, waiting for the time that Momoshiro had to come pick him up.  
>It had been their daily ritual since they'd become best friends back when they were in middle school at Seishun Gakuen. Now it was three years later and he was fifteen. It seems that time passes by quickly these days. Fuji Syuusuke, Kikumaru Eiji, Tezuka Kunimitsu and all the other third years would be graduating from high school in a few months time and then pretty soon he'd be all alone again.<p>

Just like now, in this house where there is no one. His mother is gone... has been for a while now, in more ways than one. Nanako had gotten into her ideal post-secondary school four years ago. It was pretty far away so she only visits once a month— twice if he's lucky, once every other month if he's not.

Karupin is all he has to keep him company when he's home now. All he has to keep him sane...

* * *

><p>A bike bell rings outside and he hears Momoshiro shouting his name.<br>Ryoma reaches down to scratch his cat between the ears before he grabs his bag and runs out the door, an indifferent expression plastered on his face.**…...**

Momoshiro-senpai and I make it to school on time for the first time in what has to be months. He says it's because I actually woke up on time for once, but I say it's because he managed to not hit every red light that exists on every street we use to get here. I think it's either a mix of both our efforts or sheer luck.  
>Momo locks his bike away and we walk to the changing rooms, shocking Eiji and Inui as we come in.<p>

"You're here so early! Well, early for you two~nya." he says while Inui scribbles in his always present notebook, mumbling something about _"change in pattern not anticipated," _something something something..._ "gather more data"._

"Yeah, by some weird stroke of luck we won't have to run an extra 50 laps today!" Momo tilts his head upwards, his eyes closed and a strange smile on his face, his hands pressed together, as if praising some god.

Eiji snickers as we finish changing and head out to the courts.


	3. Liars and Pretending

**Chapter 3: Liars and Pretending.**

_I can hear the twang of balls being hit back and forth. The perfect twang. You know, that sound when the ball hits the sweet-spot of the racket, the dead-center. It's soothing. Momo's my opponent in the practice matches today, and he seems to have created a new move. It doesn't have a name yet, but I don't see much point in giving something that can be beaten so easily such a thing as that._

_Then again, Momo isn't really using his full strength...so maybe it would be harder to stop. I bet that if the ball hit the ground with his full strength, and if he put a certain amount of backspin on it, then surely it could become a nearly unstoppable weapon.  
>It also depends on the opponent he's facing. In a serious match, if it were a person with a slight frame but excelled in speed and reading movements or had exceptional instincts like me, then it would (admittedly) be hard to overcome...but once they get a grasp on the timing and angle to hit the ball and what strength to use, it shouldn't be that hard right? And if it's a person with the same body-build as Momo, then—<em>

I'm ripped out of my thoughts and everything goes black for moment. Then the lights are back on and I find myself laying on the ground, a few feet from where I had been standing previously. My jogging pants are torn above the knee. There's a fierce ache in my head and the palms of my hands are bleeding. I can see small pieces of gravel stuck in the cuts and scrapes all along them. I breathe in and can feel a dull pain along my back and the left side of my body.

_I underestimated his strength. _Is all I can think.

Pounding footsteps echo across the pavement, getting louder as they near me and increasing the pain in my head.

"Ryoma! Sorry, I didn't think you'd suddenly stop moving in the middle of a match. You okay?" Momoshiro's head came into view, a worried look on his face. I nodded once, my mind blank for that moment.

"Ochibi~! Are you alright?" Bright red hair popped into sight, bobbing up and down as the hyper-active senpai bounced all around me.

"Kikumaru-senpai, would you please stop running around in circles? It's making me dizzy." My cool voice sounded far from me. Like it wasn't my own and I was simply listening in.

"Nya~ Ochibi, are you alright? Maybe you hit your head too hard? Is that what's making you dizzy?"

"No. It's you senpai." I said with a glare, though I know there may be some truth in what he's said.

"Echizen! Oh my gosh, you're bleeding, we need to get you to the nurses office!" ….worry wart.

"Saa~ Besides the scratches and cuts, I don't think there's much wrong with him. How's your head?"

"Fshhhh...whatever. He's alive right?" Kaidoh stood off to the side, arms crossed, back facing me, as if he didn't care. And for all I knew, he didn't; after all, there was no reason to worry about a brat like me.

"Of course he's alive Mamushi! That wasn't the point! He could've –!" I tuned out the argument that was bound to get louder. Noisy senpai-tachi.

"E-echizen, are you alright? That looked like it hurt. What happened?" Taka-san's timid voice rang in my ears.  
>"Data says there's a 99.9% chance he wasn't paying attention and so he was hit with the ball." Said Inui-senpai, notebook in hand while his pen flashed across the paper.<p>

"Echizen, can you stand?"

I look over to the head of our tennis club, Tezuka, and get up while dusting myself off and picking what gravel I can get a hold of, out of my hands. Oishi starts to work on the rest of my scrapes by applying the rubbing alcohol and bandages one of the non-regular kids had gone to get.

* * *

>"Sorry Buchou, it won't happen again." I say turning away from the group of friends and walking back over to my side of the court, hoping that they'll do the same so that activities can continue as normal. They do.<strong>…...<strong>

After tennis practice, I'm ambushed by Kikumaru on the way to the changing rooms.

"Ne~ Ochibi, are you sure you're alright? You haven't really been paying attention lately..."  
>Eiji whispers in my ear as he catches up with me and walks (bounces and hops is more like it) alongside me, matching my pace. But he isn't really whispering because Momo and a few other non-regulars nearby can hear him just fine. I glare at the freshmen and second years who look like they just might try to get a bit too close for my liking as Momoshiro makes his way beside me.<br>He's right, I've been losing focus a lot these past weeks. It's not only in tennis practice, but regular classes as well.

"He's right you know." Momoshiro says. "And besides that, you've seemed a bit down these days." He has his arms crossed behind his head in a casual manner and I think it has to be uncomfortable without some for of stability behind him.

"I'm the same as always. Maybe you're just too cheerful." I retort.

"Mou. Ryoma-kun, that's not true! Like Momo-chan said, Ochibi's just too gloomy." My childish senpai pouted cutely.

"Saa~ I do believe Eiji-san is right. Spacing out during practice, missing easy lobs and volleys...it;s unlike you." Fuji-senpai appears on my left side and stares down at me, his eyes closed. The ever present smile on his face has toned down a bit but to a nearly unnoticeable amount. Only his closest friends would've been able to notice.

"Yep, yep. It's not you Ryoma. I mean, I know you always seem lethargic but you never let an easy one go by...unless it's to taunt an opponent and annoy the hell outta them." Momo-senpai added with that stupid easy grin of his.

"Is it really that big of a deal? I've..." My body is tense, my breathing tight and jaw clenched. All these questions and too many eyes on me are making me nervous. I clench my fists into tight balls, fingernails digging into the skin of my palms. It's a bit painful but I can handle it. What I can't deal with— what I don't _want_ to deal with are the questions they're asking me. They don't really care anyways. All of them are just nosy. They don't _care_. Never have, never will.

I want to tell them to buzz off, leave me the fuck alone; to stop pretending to care, it only hurts me more in the end anyways. I want to say these things and more but

"I've... just been tired lately." is what I say instead.

"Then why—?" Too many questions!

"I'm _fine_, alright!? Get off my back!" Just then, the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch and the starting of classes for all the students.

I turn on my heel and stalk towards my first class getting lost in the swarm of students and leaving my startled and confused senpai-tachi behind me.

_Jeez! I was so tired of everyone bothering me just because I wasn't 'myself.' Like they even knew what my 'true self' was, or how 'I' acted. Please! They don't know anything about me. Never __**cared**__ to get to know the __**real me**__. All anyone knows is that I play tennis, '__**enjoy'**__ it immensely, and have a pet cat named Karupin that I adore. And only a __**handful**__ of people actually know about Karupin._

_They don't know anything! I bet they don't know what my favorite color is, my favorite instrument, if I like to draw, what other clubs I'm in, what type of music I like or dislike, or if I even like or **play** any sports other than tennis..._

_If they don't know things as simple as these...then how can they expect me to tell them the truth of what's going on?_

I huff these thoughts through my head as I walk though the hallways. I'm around the corner from my classroom when I realize that I haven't changed. I look down at my torn jogging pants and the white t-shirt that's still marked with dirt and patches of dried blood. Second bell rings, and I stand in place wondering if I should walk inside or show up late to class. I turn around, heading towards the boys' bathroom while yawning widely, and figure that it's fine if I miss all of first period to take a nap on the school roof instead.

…**...**

The rest of the day passes by without a quirk. His classmates and the trio don't approach him, his fan girls (and boys) don't follow him everywhere he goes, and the regulars keep their distance.

Practice went by quickly and, before he knew it, Ryoma was already heading home. With a bit of hesitation, Kikumaru Eiji had asked if he wanted to get burgers along with Momoshiro and Kaidoh, but he'd turned them done politely.

He wouldn't admit it, but he felt guilty for what had happened that morning. They were only trying to help after all. It was their duty, as senpai, to make sure that their kouhai was feeling alright...

That's right...it was their duty. They didn't do it because they actually cared, it was their **job**. They were only following common courtesy guidelines...

Just the same, he supposed that he should at least **act**civilized with his teammates.

Ryoma continued walking home, albeit very slowly. To be honest, he didn't want to go **there**; He hadn't wanted to turn down his senpai-tachi with their offers either, even if he was a little annoyed with them. He could deal with the irritation and ignore the minor questions. He could find excuses, he was sure. What he couldn't ignore though, was the fear he had of being left alone in that house. Of being in the same vicinity as his father and the anxiety that came crashing down on him every time he realised that it would be impossible to get away once he stepped past the threshold.  
>The hate that radiated off of <strong>him<strong>as soon as he stepped through the threshold of the door. The yelling and crashing and banging as drawers filled with sharp utensils were slammed and half empty beer bottles were smashed into tiny shards on the ground. The threats of what was inevitably going to happen if he 'DIDN'T GET HIS ASS UPSTAIRS RIGHT **NOW!**' …...It had been going on for a couple of years now, though it wasn't so bad when his mom was home or when Nanako came to visit on her breaks from the university. Just a simple pinch on his leg or arm underneath the dinner table, an "affectionate" hand on his shoulder squeezing just a little too hard.

Probably because he wanted to seem like the** 'good' **father everyone seemed to think he was. But now that his mother had dwindled to places unknown and because Nanako was so busy, there was no reason to pretend to be 'good' anymore.

Well, no matter. Just another two years and he'll be able to persuade them to let him live on his own. Two more years and he won't have to worry about what might happen when he walks through the door. Two more years until he could relax without having all the anxiety, fear, hatred and insecurity bottled up inside him. Two more years and he won't have to deal with the nightmares or sleepless nights. Two more years until he didn't have to lie to his senpai-tachi and cause them worry, until he didn't have to be a burden anymore. Just _two more years_ until he didn't have to try so damn **hard** to be 'fine.'  
>It was getting to be so tiresome, all the pretending and lying he did these days.<br>He didn't think he could put up with it—all of it— anymore. Not after four years. But he had to; because, regardless of everything he's thought to himself or said to Karupin in his room during those late insomnia-filled nights, Ryoma wants to live; he wants to make it through the rest of the night and through another day because, deep down, he still believes that tomorrow will be a better day.


End file.
